Nothing Like A Handful Of Dean
by cherry619
Summary: Sam gets choked. A lot. What's the best homemade remedy he or Dean has devised to deal with those abrasions? Drabble.Written for comment-fic meme on LJ.


**Authors Note: **This was a fill for the comment-fic meme that ohsam is having over on LJ. So it's basically drabble sized and un-beta'd. Hope you guys like it though! Thanks, Charity

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"Look up for me real quick?" Dean asked softly, making Sam grimace as he gently lifted his head to expose his throat.

Hearing Dean hiss lets him know he probably looks like shit right now. Stumbling into their motel room only twenty minutes prior to this Sam and Dean quickly took showers to get the grime and dirt off their bodies which was from digging up a grave to send a restless spirit back to Hell.

The hunt wasn't particularly hard just taxing. They were both running off adrenaline alone as they worked to get the hunt done and call it a night. Which is why the ghost was able to get the drop on them so easily.

Sam was taking his turn at shovelling out the dirt when he heard the screech and Dean's yell. He should have been more prepared but hearing his brother scream had him jumpy so when he turned around the ghost latched onto him with his translucent hands and squeezed.

He didn't know how long this went on for since time didn't really seem to matter when his air was getting squeezed out of him.

"Ow..." Sam whimpered, being brought back to real time at feeling the sting of peroxide cleaning out the scratches and abrasions.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." Dean muttered, his eyes sympathetic as he concentrated on cleaning out the worst of it. "Just have to clean these out, ok? I'll try and be more gentle."

Sam just nodded, not exactly feeling up to use his voice so soon. He's been choked, strangled and even hung before many times on a hunt. _Not that he knows why exactly. Not like his neck wasn't long enough. Oh no. The monsters and ghosts had to just stretch it out even more to make him look more like his relative cousin the giraffe._Sam internally grumbled with himself.

He was just sick of getting choked. Ok? It sucked. Nothing was worse than feeling the air slowly being squeezed out of you. As hands or something else tightened against your throat, making you feel lightheaded and panicked.

"The scrapes don't look too bad." Dean remarks. "Damn he got you good though. There's going to be some spectacular bruising later on."

Sam nodded slowly, his eyes catching his brothers and silently conveying his question.

"A little bit of swelling but maybe some icy hot packs should take care of it. Can you breathe ok?" Dean asked softly.

Sam nodded again.

"Good." Dean sighed. Putting away the peroxide and cotton balls in the first aid kit, which they always kept well stocked for such times as this one.

Sam watched as Dean stood up, stretched a little and tried to focus anywhere but on Sam's neck. The routine was normal, well rehearsed. Dean always took the blame for anything concerning Sam, no many how many times Sam tried to argue differently, Dean never listened. It was a lost cause to argue anyway since he figured the only thing that would escape him was a squeak.

Now that Dean inspected the scrapes and cuts, it was time to get some of the swelling down.

"Need some help getting to bed?"

Sam wanted to say he could get to bed just fine, but he was sore, tired and wobbly as it was. Using Dean's help wouldn't hurt anything.

Sam nodded solemnly, taking Dean's offered hand as he helped him up and out of the meagre motel chair.

With Dean's help he took slow, easy steps to his bed, trying not whimper at the flair of pain in his throat.

"It's alright tiger. I got you." Dean soothed, making Sam's heart immediately slow down it's frantic pounding. What sucked most about getting strangled was taking any sort of medication orally was out of the question.

Automatically knowing all of Sam's sounds Dean stopped and looked Sam in the eyes. "Do you need the good stuff?"

Sam didn't like how the 'good stuff' made him feel to be honest. But his throat was killing him. Sam nodded a quick yes, looking like a lost puppy.

"Let's get you settled here and I'll get some of it."

When Sam's head hit the pillow he felt like passing out right than and there. He watched through slitted eyes as Dean flitted across the room, scrummaging through duffel bags and the first aid kit for what he was looking for. It was a normal sight to see, making Sam relax.

Even though he wasn't getting choked anymore that sense of panic still resided till long after, making Sam jumpy and anxious, sometimes for days afterwords. But Dean being there and doing things that are familiar to Sam help his anxiety reside.

"Ok Sammy going to put the packs on your neck." Sam stared at his brother hovering over him, taking in his sincere expression as he awkwardly held the pack in his hand.

"It's going to be cold." Dean warned before settling the pack across Sam's neck.

Sam shivered at the contact but the cold soothed his irritated skin making him relax deeper into the pillow.

"Not yet sleepy head." Dean laughed, softly shaking Sam's shoulder.

Sam whined softly. Opening his eyes he saw Dean shake the needle he had in his hand.

"Squeeze my thigh if I'm hurting you ok?" Dean stated seriously.

Sam nodded, wanting to tell Dean that he would never hurt him but figuring that wasn't a good idea right now.

Bending his arm so Dean could reach his inner elbow, Sam turned away when Dean stuck him with the needle. He felt the sharp prick and than warmth spread through his veins.

Morphine always effected him more so than any other pain reliever. Sam felt his limbs grow tired as his eyes struggled to remain open.

"Go to sleep ok?"

Sam's sluggishly stared at his brother. Silently conveying what he wanted to ask.

"I'll be here like I always am kiddo, ok? Get some rest."

Sam sighed softly, closing his heavy eyes finally. He felt the covers being tucked around him securely and a hand linger on his head, softly carding through his chocolate locks in an affectionate manner.

When he finally drifted off he thought he heard a _Night Sammy_but Sam figured he must have been hearing things.

Because even Dean wouldn't say something as girly as that? Would he? Maybe the morphine was effecting him more than he though.

As Sam finally drifted off too sleep, Dean stood up from his perch on Sam's bed, staring at his baby brother for a few more moments before going to his own.

Kicking off his boots, he settled in the bed and turned the T.V on making sure to mute the sound, glancing over again to check on Sam, he settled down for a night of watching over his baby brother.

**_The End_**

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_**Hope you enjoyed this I had fun writing it! Please let me know what you think. Remember it is un-beta'd. Thanks, Charity**_


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